


Will I See You on the Other Side?

by AlexWSpark



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU Crossover, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Gaming Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexWSpark/pseuds/AlexWSpark
Summary: An ABO/Gaming AU mashup: Victor Nikiforov, figure skater and Omega, is grieving after a disastrous parting with the love of his life, Yuuri. The last thing he expects is to come face-to-face with another version of himself or the mysteries of the universe in his bedroom...





	1. Victor, Meet Victor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ajwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajwolf/gifts).



> The wonderful [Ajwolf](https://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) graciously gave me permission to use her AU, The Unusual Truth, in this ABO/Gaming crossover that I've had sitting around in my WIPs for quite some time. I'm so happy I got a moment to clean the first chapter and post it. Hope you enjoy this indulgent little fic! <3
> 
> As always, love and pancakes to Aj for the beta!

Victor listens to the shrill jingle of his alarm, one of Yuuri’s old free-skate compositions; it was music that never made it into competition, but sat, nonetheless, in the middle of a lengthy playlist that Yuuri shared with him some months before. He blinks at his phone, tear tracks wet yet again as he listens to the heartrending crescendo of piano; where it once made him feel like he controlled the sunrise, now it mocks him, every single note a reminder of how badly he hurt Yuuri.

Victor pulls his pillow closer, tangles himself around it as he makes a pitiful ball of himself under the covers. Yuuri, his friend, his confidant, his... _everything_. They knew each other for so long, both finding comfort where neither of them dreamed there would be. _Yuuri_. So fearless in bearing himself in Telluride, in loving Victor with all his heart, caring for him like they were lovers, holding him like they were soul-

His sob infests the room, and he shuts the phone off a third of the way into the music’s fourth loop. This is what his mornings amounted to ever since he returned from Colorado - a pity party, a how-to on how _not_ to do life or love. Leave it to him to break things and reduce it all to fine dust under his heel.

Sleep is as elusive as the warmth of his heartbeat; everything is cold and lonely and utterly silent without Yuuri and his Alpha. Victor can’t even move to the left side of _his_ bed because he knows Yuuri’s preferences from all the nights they shared together. It’s incredibly stupid considering that Yuuri never stepped foot into his apartment, much less his bedroom, but...it _would’ve_ been his side if Victor hadn’t fucked things up between them.

_‘...’_

His Omega’s tail thumps once, chagrin echoing in the motion. Victor aches from her prolonged silent treatment, an unrelenting storm cloud in a permanent stretch of gloom.

_I had to do it. I had to. He deserves a strong Omega. He deserves someone who doesn’t run away. I’m neither of those things._

_‘...’_

_Yuuri has his whole life ahead of him. He’s already one of the most desirable Alphas there is. I can’t hold him back like this._

_‘...’_

_Please talk to me. Please say something. Please...just..._

_‘...’_

She remains curled away from him, head tucked into her legs, tail twisting to cover her eyes. Victor pleads with his whimpers, the twinge in the back of his throat from trying to stifle them growing more dreadful by the second. Still, she doesn’t look at him or acknowledge his voice; they’re strangers in his mind, reduced to a silence that scrapes jagged lines down his heart. This is all his fault, every bit of it. If he wasn’t so damn _weak_ -

The portal that appears past the foot of his bed sends him clambering up the headboard, scream caught between him smashing his head against the wood and Makkachin jumping awake, growling fierce at his side. The wide opening brews with color and shapes and an innate sense of something beyond the black depths. That something pops right out of the hole, a human-shaped _something_ that lands head-first on his bedroom floor; a litany of groans, retching and curses are drowned into the carpet as the portal dissipates above the intruder in the space of a blink.

“ _Ugh_ …why are the landings...always like this…”

“DON’T MOVE!” Victor grabs the lamp from the nightstand, rips it from the plug and brandishes it, a knight clearly in need of a career change. A hand snakes over the edge of his bed and Victor brings his improvised weapon down on those fingers, dropping it entirely when the stranger yells out in pain.

“What the hell was that for?!” he complains, clamping both hands down on the edge a second time to pull himself up. Victor scuttles backwards when he finds himself staring at... _himself._

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Can you not, with the volume-”

“YOUR FACE!”

“Holy shit, you’re louder than the last me. Inside voice, please!” Portal Victor hugs his stomach and swallows. “I promise, you can freak out when my brain stops spinning and I- _blergh…_ ” he doubles over, scrunching his face until it looks almost pleated. “Water. Juice. Drink. _Anything_.”

Victor gives the intruder a look of absolute confusion. There’s fear in the nuance of his expression, he's sure, but he finds he can’t give it much attention when his Omega moves her tail, ears perking curiously. She’s as calm as ever and it settles over Victor like a warm blanket left in the midday sun. He scrambles off the bed and sprints to the kitchen, sliding awkwardly along the tile as he yanks open the refrigerator and grabs for the first set of liquids in front of him. He has no real explanation for the sudden autopilot, doesn’t know why he’s entertaining this doppelganger but there is no way he wants to redo the flooring in his room, so, fine. Water.

Portal Victor lays spread eagle on the bedroom floor with Makkachin nestled on his chest; he dotes on her as she doles out long, wet stripes over his face and neck, huffing a little given her weight. Victor stares, hysteria in an all out brawl with the oddly easygoing sight in front of him. Makkachin is a very good girl but she’s extremely protective and only ever gets this comfortable with him. The second thing is that this Victor, with his shoulder length bob and heart-shaped smile, is... _him_ ; the only noticeable difference between them is the five o’clock shadow and the faint crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He might be older, more disheveled, certainly more adventurous with his half-sleeve tattoo but...there’s no doubt that he’s looking into a mirror.

“Flavored water, pink grapefruit.” Victor says, holding out the bottle but staying firmly in the doorway. “It’s sugar-free.”

“Uh huh.” Portal Victor kisses Makkachin between the eyes, coaxing himself off the ground with a harsh grunt. “Strict diet?”

“If you were actually me, you’d know that.” Victor mutters, eyes widening as he gets a better look at Portal Victor’s outfit. A short-sleeved, white tunic of some soft, neckline decorated in delicate gold and green filigree, flows over a pair of close-to-threadbare jeans; the dip of the front of the tunic is lined with glittering stones. He’s barefoot, which is the least strange observation of the list. The bottoms Victor can discern, but the top, that rich silken material like the ocean’s waves are sewn into the fabric, Victor is sure he’s never seen anything like it.

_Those jewels can’t be real, can they?_

_‘...They’re real.’_

_What?! Wait...Omega...?_

“Wrong but I appreciate the sass.” Portal Victor takes the bottle, barely bats an eyelash when Victor takes a full step backwards; his expression is one of relief when he finishes the drink. “Thanks. Not as bad as I thought it would be. You can freak out now, if you want.”

“Who are you?”

“Uh.” Portal Victor makes a vague gesture to himself. “Self-explanatory.”

“You look like me.”

“That’s because I _am_ you.”

Victor throws his hands up in exasperation,.“What does that even mean?! You can’t just appear out of literally nothing and expect that to be an acceptable answer!”

Portal Victor smiles, partially insufferable (and Victor recognizes it well, _what the hell_ ) but mostly understanding, “We were born on December twenty-fifth, we hate smooth peanut butter, we have a stash of nineties pop CDs that we’ve told no one about and probably never will, we are unbelievably hard-headed, which does not always work out well for us...”

“How do you-”

Portal Victor sighs, tugs his tunic up his torso to reveal a birthmark; it’s a paint splash of darkened skin against his usual paleness, scattered along his left rib. Victor blinks at it then back at...at _himself_ , raising his own t-shirt to show the exact same mark. Portal Victor lets the fabric go, lips quirking in amusement and apology.

“I’m really sorry if I’m being an asshole. I was less blunt with the others.” Portal Victor admits, sitting on the edge of the bed and propping his elbows on his knees. “But I’m fucking exhausted this time. And it’s loud here. Really loud. Is this a world with Alphas, Omegas and Betas?”

Victor can’t keep up with this; the birthmark? Others? Loud? This time? World? _What the fuck is going on?!_

“Yes.”

And Portal Victor smiles, a beautiful squiggle of nostalgia as his eyes gloss over with tears. “I thought so. How cool is that? How’s our Omega doing?”

_What-_

_'He’s you. From another place and another time. I can’t quite tell when, though.'_

_That’s not possible!_

_‘Yet, there he is. He’s older than you and wired a little differently but otherwise, he’s Victor Nikiforov.’_

_How?_

Omega swishes her tail and doesn’t respond, returning to her state of brooding with an impatient huff; only this time, she seems less sullen and a lot fond, and Victor wonders if there’s something she’s not telling him. He presses a hand over his heart, digs into his chest, torn between the impossibility of Portal Victor and Occam’s razor; everything still feels so raw, from the suddenness of this appearance to his heartache over Yuuri. _Yuuri._ Imagine if Yuuri could see this over a video call, two Victors in the flesh; his reaction would no doubt be priceless…

“How long have you and Yuuri been apart?”

Victor’s eyes snap up to meet overly concerned ones. “E-Excuse me?”

“I know that look. I’ve worn that look. You’re thinking about what Yuuri would say about this,” Portal Victor gestures between them both, “except, you don’t look happy about it _and_ you’ve been crying.”

Victor blanches. “That’s n-not…”

“How long?”

“It’s...there’s…” Victor stoops as Makka approaches him, embraces her when she licks away his distress. “A-A few weeks. There was an article and I...I left him in the airport...”

Portal Victor doesn’t look angry or even mildly upset; it’s what Victor expects given his initial question. Instead, there’s a burst of melancholy in his eyes, a steady mizzling of emotion that Portal Victor has clearly carried with him for a long time. But where Victor is still reaching for the horizon, stretching and straining against his own shackles, Portal Victor smiles to himself, the sadness merely a byproduct of lessons learned. He looks at Victor, nods kindly when he sees the tears.

“Are you okay?”

Victor gives an empty laugh. “No.”

“Fair enough. Where is he? Detroit maybe?”

“Yes. He’s training as well. We’re both figure skaters.”

“That explains the strict diet.” Portal Victor chuckles. “I’m no skater but my parents met on an ice rink in Moscow. My dad skated right into a pole because he couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

“Do you live in Russia too...where you’re from?” Victor taps a finger against his lip. “Your accent isn't quite right.”

Portal Victor shakes his head. “California, actually. Yuuri and I live off the West Coast of the United States and we’re currently on the back-end of twenty twenty-...” he scratches his head. “I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure what year it is. My brain isn’t functioning as well as I’d like. I might be thirty-five or I might be losing my mind, I really don’t know anymore.”

“Twenty twenty... _fuck._ ” Victor whispers. “What happened to you?”

“Long story short, Yuuri and I were invited to beta test a new device that Moiety Media was developing over the last five years. Or so they told us.”

“Moiety?” Victor squints, remembering the name from Yuuri mentioning them during their vacation. “Aren’t they a video-game company?”

Portal Victor pulls a small, square device from his pocket with a bitter hiss. “Of course they exist here, too. Sons of bitches. Where I’m from they’re an acclaimed technology startup and the envy of Silicon Valley. All the corporate giants have attempted to buy them out with no luck. Their secret project, this fucking thing,” he scrapes a nail over the gadget, flakes the metallic paint with a grim smile, “was supposed to be their flagship product, a revolutionary doorway to the chronos and beyond.”

“That sounds...confusing. And dangerous.”

“Understatement. To think something so small would be this big of a pain in the ass. It’s already been,” Portal Victor counts off on his fingers, “fifty-two days. Yuuri’s probably worried sick. I hate when he worries, he bites his nails-”

“-until he doesn’t have any left.” Victor’s heart seizes with the casual mentions, so easy from this other Victor, so loving. “You and Yuuri...you’re together?”

Portal Victor looks at him in a wholly contented way but his sigh is remorseful as he raises his left hand to show the simple gold band resting on his ring finger.

“Yuuri is my husband. We’ve been married for a few years.”

“ _Married?_ ” Victor stands so suddenly that Portal Victor does too, Makka bouncing between them in what she obviously believes is playtime; he walks to his older self, grinds his forehead against Portal Victor’s chest, throat rigged with sobs. He forgets to be cautious, forgets every question he has, forgets that there’s still a veritable canyon of information that Portal Victor has locked away in his mind; he grips the ring, circles the cool metal, and _dreams._

Tired arms wrap around him, lets him cry. “Do you want to hear about-”

“ _Yes."_

Portal Victor smooths back his recently cut hair and Victor shudders with the memory of Yuuri’s fingers in it.

“I proposed to Yuuri during a video game convention in California. There was a flash mob and a lot of singing, and then he was running through the crowd and into my arms. Funny thing is, he was planning on proposing to me that day as well. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but Yuuri has a way about him. He’s magic, always has been. It’s still so unbelievable how easily I can be myself with him, no matter where we are, no matter what we’re doing.” Portal Victor hugs him closer. “Where we’re from, Yuuri’s family owns a bed and breakfast in Napa Valley. We had a beautiful ceremony there, fairly small except for the live stream which was filled with both our viewers. Twitch crashed twice that day because of us.”

“Viewers?”

“Oh, right. We were full-time online broadcasters in our world.”

Victor peeks up, a question on his lips that he's not sure he wants to ask. Portal Victor laughs at the insinuation.

“Not that kind of broadcasting, geez. We were _video-game_ broadcasters. Get your mind out of the gutter.” Portal Victor gives a teasing wink. “Though, in some of the universes I've been in, our careers are, ah, quite diverse. I can’t wait to tell Yuuri about them.”

Curiosity gets the better of Victor. “What did you see?”

Portal Victor closes his eyes, heart hammering against Victor’s own. “A lot. Too much, if I'm being honest. We all live in a bubble of our own making but finding out that there are infinite bubbles, all with different story-lines and settings, it’s overwhelming. I've seen castles and creatures and specks of life. I've spoken with eidolons and skeletons, scientists and kings. I've sat with wolves. Cities were large and built from light, or small and floating on clouds. Then, there’s the iterations of us on Earth, the different careers and locations, the little butterfly effects that led to us making completely different decisions...”

“I don't understand.” Victor says truthfully.

“I don't either. But there’s one thing that has kept me sane. You know what that is?”

“What?”

Portal Victor leans away from him, brushes tears from his cheek. “Yuuri and I are soulmates in every single universe.”

“Soulmates…” Victor hiccups, bites his lip as a livewire of a thought streaks pain over his heart. “Maybe this universe will be the outlier.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I...I left him. I hurt him. Why would he ever want to talk to me, much less be with me after the way I treated him?”

Portal Victor stares at him for a few seconds, a grin taking control of his mouth before laughter overtakes him entirely. He rests his head on Victor’s shoulder and holds his sides, breathless with stitches.

“How is that funny?” Victor fumes, pushing against him roughly but Portal Victor doesn’t budge. “How could losing the person you love be a joke to _you_?”

Portal Victor takes a deep breath, wipes beneath his eyes with a tired smile. “I’m starving. How about we get some takeout and I’ll tell you all about the three major fights Yuuri and I have had that I’m sure will give you both a run for your money.”


	2. The World Spins Madly On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the tank and healer spots to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting around to some of my WIPs, and this just fell out of my brain this morning :) I'm so happy it did because I've been staring at the notes for months.
> 
> Get your tissues ready, and hope you enjoy! <3

Portal Victor _feels._

The nip along the groves of his toes, a phantom itch on his shoulder that’s playing peek-a-boo with his too-slow fingers, the creak of his spine as he moves, albeit slowly...the interminable pang in his chest ever since he was sucked from his own universe.

The latter is something that, before his unceremonious descent into that first world, where a tailed and shimmering Yuuri launched several massive shells at his face, he feels he’s taken for granted. Yuuri would disagree, and such a debate would likely end with them drawing the covers over their heads, the promise of their marriage heard in soft praises and felt in even softer kisses.

He tilts his head back, watches the light fixtures distort and blur as he whimpers. At home in his corner of space and time, he would climb a mountain of incessant grumbles and spirited elbow jabs each morning so he could kiss Yuuri awake. Age struck a bargain with his husband, or so Victor likes to tease, what with the incredible sexy upsweep of Yuuri’s man bun and a crinkled smile that still lands arrows to Victor’s knees. He knows how lucky he is to build a life with Yuuri, more so now that they’re apparently _soulmates_ , but as the days pass and he seems no closer to getting home to California circa twenty-twenty-something, Victor finds himself wishing:

One more playful kiss over their still steaming morning coffee, one more afternoon snoozing in the hammock in their backyard with Makka, one more attempt at cooking katsudon and redecorating their kitchen with lost ingredients, one more timeless night lost in Yuuri’s arms…

Victor clenches his jaw, watching the water stream into the oversized tub from the shower-head. Every universe has reminded him of what he’s lost - Yuuri, GA, his parents and in-laws. And as strong as he tries to be, even he has his limits. With a coarse grunt, he climbs into the the bath and crumbles into the side of the tub, knees tucked to his chin, eyes fixed on his wedding ring. The recent conversation with his younger self replays in his mind, oddly comforting now that he’s alone in the apartment. Omega Victor is a wildfire, more so now that he courts a crushed heart, and Victor feels regret on behalf of the powers that be that he barged into this Victor’s life during such a difficult time.

This is all Moiety’s fault, the sons of bitches. Their intent, nefarious as it appears, is still masked behind countless question marks. If they already have a foothold in all these universes, why risk hosting the beta test? What exactly were they trying to prove, interfering with people’s lives like this? Victor has taken no pains in spilling Moiety’s name as messily as he can, gathering scraps of information on their many businesses, a different one in each universe, or so he assumes. Time isn’t always on his side; there were so many instances where he spent all of a few minutes in a new place before being whisked away and dropped on his head. Right now, he wonders how long he’ll be allowed to linger here before the device springs to life again.

Hopefully, it’ll be a few hours, because most of his brain is halved and quartered, his thoughts and the jumbled echo of a world of secondaries shuffling endlessly along the rift of a nasty migraine. The dimensional trips have brought their consequences, and it’s getting much more demanding ignoring the way his mind burns, a slow corrosion of his sense that truly terrifies him.

“You’re too good for those woods,” he whispers, thumbing at his ring and holding fast to the image of Yuuri jumping into his arms at the altar. He misses his husband, _needs_ him, fear like concrete in his gut that he'll never see him again. All of the Yuuris and Victors he’s met were a blessing, the moments shared with them the silver lining in all this chaos. Victor relaxes his legs some, just so he can shoot his dick a reproving glare as it twitches a little too enthusiastically to some of those memories.

“Pavlov’s cock.” he mutters, mouth splitting into a laugh seconds later because Yuuri would’ve definitely appreciated that. Victor runs a hand through his hair, shuddering under the freezing spray, tears mingling with water on his cheeks. Yuuri, _his_ Yuuri...he’s heartbroken without him. That distinct twinkle, a GamerLevelEros specialty, it isn’t something that transcended fully to other universes, and God, what Victor would do to see it again.

Fucking Moiety. Fucking device.

“Fuck.” Victor sinks further into the tub, suddenly overcome as his headache sharpens. He grips the sides of the porcelain, counting back from one hundred through clenched teeth, body rigid save for his roiling stomach. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

_Victor?!_

Victor’s head snaps to the right, a frantic search of the still empty bathroom provoking fresh tears as the source of the voice, _Yuuri’s_ voice is nowhere in sight.

 _It’s all in my head,_ Victor sighs. _It’s never real. He’s not here...Yuuri..._

But he hears it again: _Victor! Victor, I can hear you! I can...this headache, fuck...I feel like I can’t breathe._

There’s no explanation for the muted chant of his name or the sound of his husband reverberating through his mind with the same desperation he clings to. Victor doesn’t understand it, can hardly believe it, is liable to combust from the sensory overload but he scrambles forward and concentrates with all he has left on the pulse at the back of his mind.

_Yuuri...?_

_Yes! Yes, love, it’s me! Are you okay? Where are you? What the hell is going on?_

Victor gives a staggered and helpless laugh. _Yuuri, my Yuuri, I’m far away in another Russia with a younger me. I’m here, love. God, I can hear you too._

_Another Russia? Younger you? Then the rumors about Moiety, they’re all true, love? That device…_

Victor _feels_ , and he wonders if this connection with Yuuri is why everything became so potent since he fell into this universe. Whatever the cause, he reaches out with his heart, lets the jumble of thoughts flow to his husband. It doesn't matter the order or design of it, just so that Yuuri knows he’s alive and safe, and that so many of their other selves have had some serious fucking sass.

A choked laugh fills his head. It fades as quickly as it starts and Victor wrenches his hair, tries to keep a hold of Yuuri’s voice. _How are you? How’s everyone doing?_ _No...please don’t cry, Yuuri. I’m so sorry, love. I-_

_I’m just happy to hear you! I thought...Vitya, I thought you were…_

Victor gulps. _Yuuri..._

_Moiety wouldn’t give us any information about what happened. They barred us from headquarters, the media won’t talk to us, none of your parents’ corporate contacts want to get involved. It’s insane!_

Rage sears Victor’s chest like a branding iron. _They’re in all of these universes, Yuuri. I don’t know what they’re doing but it can’t be anything good._

_Talk to me, tell me everything you can, about you and Moiety._

Victor obliges and unloads, wheezing as he loses the thread of one story and strives to compensate with another. Yuuri soothes him, eases the frustration of it all with tidbits about Makka and GA, and messages from Victor’s parents who Yuuri opted to stay with while they all determine their next steps.

 _I can barely hear you,_ is the too soon and panicked sentiment that Yuuri all but sobs. _I’ve written down everything you’ve said. It’s all here. I...I’ll fix this, Vitya, I promise. I should’ve never insisted we do the beta–_

 _You asked me and I said yes. This isn’t your fault._ Victor shakes his head, even though Yuuri can’t see the silent plea. He grits his teeth, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead as he rubs rough circles into his skin. _I miss you so much, Yuuri. I want to come home._

Their link is falling apart, they both sense it, and Victor can do nothing but endure the cracks down the length of his heart as they think over the other, and squeeze whatever time they have left together.

_Victor, I love you, I’ll bring you home, I swear to God!_

_I love you so much, Yuuri. I’ll find a way out of this, no matter what, I’ll come back to you!_

_We’re not giving up, all of us–_

_Please tell everyone I’m okay, don’t worry-–_

_Victor–_

_Yuuri–_

_Vic–_

“Yuuri…” Victor breathes, headache gradually settling into an occasional dull thud; and as the silence taunts him, he slams a fist into the water pooled around him, crying in earnest. He’s so fucking tired, and this is so fucking much, and he’s so fucking ready to incapacitate the bastards at Moiety who made his Yuuri cry. But for now...he has to be brave like Yuuri. He has to see this through. No matter where he goes, no matter what manner of universe he faces, he has to figure out how to get home, and marry Yuuri all over again because that’s the only logical course of action after this mess.

The lock on the front door clicks, and an excited borf fills the cosy apartment, a prelude to Makkachin’s rapid scamper towards the bathroom door that Victor had absentmindedly left ajar. A snout pokes through the space, and then she comes trotting to him, followed by the rustle of plastic bags, and a tentative knock and voice from outside.

“Victor?” Omega Victor stalls and sighs, not annoyed but not entirely forthcoming either. “I picked up a few different things for you to eat. I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Victor swallows the worst of his tears, and reaches out to bury a hand in Makka’s fur, tickling her as he grounds himself. “Sounds good. I’ll be out in five minutes.”

“Okay.”

Footsteps lead away from the bathroom, and Victor furrows, wondering if Omega Victor still stings from being laughed at about his and Yuuri’s fight. Victor probably should’ve been a little less devil-may-care with his outburst, having stood in those same shoes and felt the same grief when he and Yuuri went days without talking. Omega Victor is broken, and as exhausted as Victor is, he’s incapable of not worrying about...himself. Unlike his last adventure, which saw him traversing the halls of an actual starship and happening upon _Captain_ Yuuri hoisting another Victor up and pinning him to the wall inside of a tiny storage unit, his current location is decidedly less sexy or amusing. He wants to help his miserable counterpart, but how?

So many of Victor’s characteristics carry over into these universes, and he’s discovered endless more, all of them leaving him dazed and sometimes, completely dumbstruck. This time, he faces off against what he considers to be the bane of all his traits – his stubbornness.

Makka nudges at him, and Victor smiles when she offers a sweet woof, pawing at the tub until he finally decides to move.

“You are without a doubt my best girl, here and everywhere.” Victor leans over the tub to nuzzle her, and she licks happily at his face, as if to agree with him. He pulls himself up and finishes his bath, hands bunched against his chest and heart, swaying on the spot as the spring perfume of the body wash blooms around him. Five minutes turn into fifteen, but eventually he stumbles from the shower, grabbing the towel Omega Victor loaned him, along with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt emblazoned in some past figure skating championship logo. He emerges from the bathroom, puffy-eyed but refreshed, and positively famished.

Omega Victor sits at the kitchen island, spooning honey over a whole wheat waffle. Next to him are two plates piled high with pastries, the collective waft of it making a beeline for Victor’s rumbling belly. Makkachin, who napped in the bathroom until Victor was dressed, trots alongside him, tongue lolling from her mouth at the close vicinity of such appetizing treats.

“Help yourself.” Omega Victor murmurs, picking at his own breakfast and avoiding Victor’s eyes. “Some are filled with beef, and there are a few with chopped fruits and jam. This might be stupid to ask, but are you allergic to anything? I’m still not sure how this,” Omega Victor gestures between them, “is supposed to work.”

“I don’t have any allergies, and thanks for asking.” Victor hops onto a chair, pulls an entire plate towards him and starts from the top. “How was your walk?”

“Chilly. I don’t usually take Makka out this early, so at least one of us was really happy about it.”

Victor thumbs flaky bits from his lips, swallowing around a grateful moan as he devours the first tart in two overlarge bites. “I really appreciate all of this. Whenever I drop from a portal, I swear it feels like I’ve never had a meal in my life. After the obligatory nausea, of course.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

Yuuri’s tearful ‘I love you’ still occupies Victor’s mind, as does this universe’s consistent muddle of Alpha, Omega and Beta noise. He shrugs, not in any mood to plaster together cheap humor to cover his hurt; instead, he says:

“If I recall, I owe you a story, right?”

Omega Victor finally glances at him, interest piqued against the will of his own hesitance. Victor picks at another pastry, biting into it with a wistful smile.

“Our entire history is _very_ long, but all you really need to know for this story is that Yuuri spent years under the alias GamerLevelEros, and hid his true identity from everyone, including me, for over a decade.

We were just friends when we had our first fight but I always feel like it was the worse out of the top three. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with my desktop, spent the entire night taking the thing apart and trying to salvage what I could. Yuuri calls in the middle of that disaster, and he’s so excited about the video game he’s telling me about that I struggled to keep up with him. I didn’t mean to, and even now that we’re married I still regret it, but I snapped at him, told him that he shouldn’t assume I had nothing better to do.”

“Ouch.” Omega Victor winces.

“Understatement.” Victor’s shoulders slump as he continues. “It devolved from there. He lashed out, said he should’ve known it was only a matter of time I would say something like that to him, that it was all about what suited me. So, instead of hanging up the phone like any smart person would do, I bit back, said that he of all people shouldn’t be talking about what suited anyone because it’s always been about him and his…”

“His what?”

Victor looks up at Omega Victor and finds his younger self obscured; when did he start crying again? “I never finished the sentence. My brain caught up with my emotions but by then, it was too late.”

“What were you going to say?”

“That...that it was always about him and his secret identity.”

Omega Victor searches the grooves of his waffle, fork hovering over it as he soaks in Victor’s recollection. “Why do we do that? Why do we hurt the people we l–...that are close to us?”

_‘...Why won’t you say it?’_

“I can’t.” Omega Victor objects before looking at him apologetically. “Sorry. I was answering my Omega.”

Victor can’t hear her but considering that he met her some universes ago, he imagines she’s not too pleased with Victor’s decision to shut himself off and mope. “Is everything okay?”

_‘No.’_

“No.” Omega Victor says, and Victor feels the despair like a vice over around his heart. “She thinks I should say...something. But it’ll only make this worse.”

“Can’t get much worse than an older version of yourself falling out of thin air into your bedroom.” Victor bargains. “Now you can tell your Yuuri exactly what you’ll look like with more than a few grey hairs.”

Omega Victor ignores his effort to lighten the mood, frown steep and quivering. “As bad as your fight with your Yuuri was, it still doesn’t come close to me abandoning him in the airport. We had such a wonderful vacation too. I’ve never...I dreamed about my first time with him, dreamed about us together but now...”

Victor exhales heavily. “You think you’ve lost him.”

“I _did_ lose him.” Omega Victor shoots him an incensed glare. “Look, you might’ve been able to smooth things over in your world...universe...whatever, but you don’t understand how things are here. No Alpha would ever forgive me for what I did, and they’re right not too because–”

Victor holds up a hand. “Call him.”

_‘Yes. Please!’_

“What? No! You’re both out of your minds. I’ve done enough!”

“If you truly believe everything you just told me, then confirming it won’t add to your heartbreak but leaving things unsaid like this will only make it fester. What do you have to lose?”

_‘Listen to yourself, please!’_

“Stop it, both of you!” Trembling, Omega Victor leaves his stool and ventures towards his bedroom but Victor isn’t having it. Not after his brief connection with Yuuri, not after knowing exactly how much it _aches_ to be apart from him whether by their own stupidity or now by force. He cuts Victor off before he can retreat, stepping in suffocatingly close, tipping Victor’s chin up with a blazing gaze of his own. This position, the delicacy and firmness of it, is something that they both know is reserved for Yuuri, and Yuuri alone. Omega Victor seems enraged at first, the proximity alone striking hot at his defenses. His eyes burn, irritated at even the thought of being treated like a child, and all at once his hand rises to grab at Victor’s wrist.

Then...he stops. Stops and realizes where they are and who he’s with. He stares at Victor’s hand, the ring that sits there, scuffed and worn but _real_. Tears cloud his vision and he squeezes against Victor’s pulse point, digs crescents into his skin, shakes with the kind of frustration that can’t be undone by sheer will alone. No, this Victor, this young version of himself that carries a wall a hundred storeys high and triple the thickness, needs to look inwards and _understand_. Love is one thing – beautiful and healing, yes – but if Omega Victor has no grasp of himself and the demons clawing away at his heart, he can never truly look Yuuri in the eye and say those three words.

“Are you done lying to me? To _yourself_?” Victor whispers, a voice he’s used on himself so many times, a quiet chastising that could flay any beast. Omega Victor, mouth opening in retaliation, chokes on the first word as he chips and fractures and comes crashing down; his sobs are so familiar, so raw, and Victor hugs him tight, wishing like hell that both their Yuuris were here with them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> In case you don't know, I've left both Twitter and Tumblr, so feel free to reach out in the comments <3


	3. You're Too Good for Those Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the cool weather to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I think about this fic, the more plot pops up. The end is in sight, though, or at least it is in my mind xD This chapter was initially longer, but I ended up incorporating some things into the next chapter, which is currently well on its way to completion :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy the update!

_Victor, I love you, I’ll bring you home, I swear to God!_

_I love you so much, Yuuri. I’ll find a way out of this, no matter what, I’ll come back to you!_

_We’re not giving up, all of us-_

_Please tell everyone I’m okay, don’t worry-_

_Victor–_

_Yuu-_

“Victor…” Yuuri’s arm extends in front of him, reaching out to nothing and _everything._ Victor's voice, hoarse and worn and so perpetually beautiful, speeds over the bumps of a headache that brought Yuuri to his knees. He crumbles, forehead thumping the carpet and part of the notepad that bears almost indecipherable scribbles and sketches. It’s been almost two months without a trace, and suddenly, for a few extraordinary minutes, Victor seemed so close; his husband was _right there_ within his reach, echoing through his mind and in his heart. But now…

He slams his palm down, an incoherent and angered sob chasing it. It isn’t fair. It’s borderline cruel. The way Moiety has toyed with them is downright criminal. Since Victor’s disappearance, Yuuri hasn’t gone a day without nightmares; the radiant visage of Victor that quickly turns to static and ash, his unrestrained and horrified screams jolting Yuuri’s sweat-soaked body awake.

“I am so sorry, Vitya.” Yuuri says softly, devoid of the vigor to protest when a pair of gentle hands press gently into his shoulders. The clear and calming, but equally firm encouragement of Ekaterina Nikiforov washes over him; and as much as he wants to be left alone, he succumbs to her guidance.

“Yuuri, my dear, let’s get you some water, and something for the pain, yes? Crouching on the floor like this is not at all good for your back. Stand up with me, okay?”

Yuuri soons finds himself on the nearby couch with Ekaterina, clutching the hasty collection of notes to his chest as she draws circles into his back and quietly walks him through a breathing exercise. Alexei Nikiforov strides into the sitting room, stooping next to him with an attentive smile.

“We’re almost out of migraine relief. I’m sorry we don’t have anything stronger.” He places two pills into Yuuri’s hand, and waits for him to pop them into his mouth before passing him an opened bottle of water. Yuuri grimaces when the pills linger too long on his tongue, the taste of them a pungent flood on their way down his throat.

“Thank you.” Yuuri whispers.

“Think nothing of it.” Alexei takes the unused water, and looks over at his wife. “Yuuri’s parents will be here tonight. GA are currently on the road and on their way here. I tried to be as delicate as possible with them, but...”

Ekaterina nods, and Yuuri can only close his eyes and veer towards her as she smooths back his hair. “Perhaps we should also ask our doctor to make a house call? I know she doesn’t have regular hours with the medical conference going on.”

There’s shuffling within the room, and Yuuri hears Alexei speak from across it. “I've already given Dr. Petrov a call, and she cancelled her appearance at this morning’s panel. She’ll be here within the hour, bless her. Now, Yuuri, would you like some more water, or maybe rum?”

“Rum.” Yuuri and Ekaterina say in unison, and he manages a weary smile; his in-laws are nothing short of guardian angels. He sinks a hand into his hair and sighs; his head isn't pounding as uncontrollably as before, but Victor is there, a thunderstorm in his mind that chills his chest and drowns his heart. Tears drip onto his neck, an uncomfortable crawl that he flicks at uselessly, knowing it'll be replaced within seconds. On days when the world caved and everything was only manageable from the cocoon of a blanket, Victor would hum into his hair, tell him how beautiful he was, and then kiss his tears away.

Yuuri could’ve never imagined how painful it would be without Victor by his side. For all their minor squabbles, for the hours they spent in silence, this is suffering he can’t begin to articulate. An hour ago, Yuuri feared for his husband’s life. Now, all he wants to do is thank him, to hold him, to tell him how everyday is the adventure of a lifetime because they’re together and married.

One more starlit kiss as they dance in their backyard, one more spontaneous road trip with Makka howling jubilantly out the window, one more frivolous one-v-one to delegate their list of chores, one more stunning scene of Victor crawling naked into his lap...

The clink of glasses are close enough that Yuuri blinks his eyes open to Alexei’s outstretched hand. He accepts the generous half-filled glass, waiting until all three of them are served to swallow the alcohol is one gulp. It burns a measured line to Yuuri’s stomach, and he fights the predictable retch, holding the glass out for a refill. Rum is never his choice of drink, but right now, he’ll gladly take the strong haze of it over water.

“You can ask me, you know.” Yuuri murmurs after a third liberal shot is taken in silence. “Victor’s your son. You...you should be demanding information from me.”

“Last I checked, Yuuri, you’re our son too. This isn’t a courtroom, you’re not on trial.” Alexei speaks with an inflexibility that reminds Yuuri of exactly how formidable both he and Ekaterina are. They are patient as Yuuri collects his scattered thoughts, compassionate where they could be cold. How they’re able to keep their cool in the face of such overwhelming events is a source of mystery and strength for Yuuri.

“You are not responsible for everyone’s grief, Yuuri.” Ekaterina touches his cheek and turns his face so he can look no where else but at her. “You have to take care of yourself first. There is no one to blame for this debacle except Moiety Media. Do you understand me?”

“I do.” Yuuri assures her, and nods to Alexei with a grateful albeit strained smile. “I know how this is going to sound but, a nutshell, Victor is in Russia in another dimension with a younger version of himself. He’s been through so many universes, even he’s lost count. But, for now, he’s-”

“ _Alive._ ” Alexei collapses into an armchair, his resilient exterior doused in pure relief. “Oh God, I...I was preparing for the worst.”

Ekaterina takes his hand and squeezes tight. “What else did he say? What can you tell us?”

Yuuri relinquishes his notepad to her, still too stuttered by the sound of Victor’s voice to endeavor towards a more coherent explanation. Ekaterina leans towards Alexei, and they peruse Yuuri’s writing; much of it probably reads like gibberish, stories of cities in the sky and talking wolves, creatures of lore and a young Victor who professionally skates. Then there’s Moiety, an ominous corporate presence wherever Victor goes, doing God knows what in the shroud of space and time.

“I’ve heard about Moiety’s partners researching the likes of augmented reality and virtual reality, but not _alternate_ reality.” Alexei says. “Then again, most of their practices are well protected under Moiety’s parent company and I’m beginning to see why.”

Ekaterina massages her temple. “It certainly explains why companies like Google and Microsoft called some of their technological pursuits into question a few years back. It was more than corporate bureaucracy.”

“That conversation died as abruptly as it started.” Alexei grimly points out. “We might remember it and I'm sure others do, but as we’ve seen, no one wants to acknowledge it. No one wants to help us.”

“Nevertheless, they’ve interfered with my family, and I am prepared to burn Moiety to the ground if we meet one more orchestrated dead end.” Ekaterina grits.

“I'll finance the gasoline.” Alexei scans the notes again with a grave face. “There has to be someone we can go to, Katenka. A favor we haven’t thought of. Perhaps the Drake family?”

“It’s not ideal but I’m willing to go down that road. I also have a few ideas to run by Phichit, and...Yuuri? Yuuri, are you okay?”

Yuuri is on his feet, hand curled around his left ear as he stares towards the main hallway. “Do you feel that?”

Ekaterina brushes his arm. “Talk to us. What’s happening?”

“It’s like...déjà vu. Like I’m awake in a dream.” Yuuri rambles, vertigo so poignant that it feels more like a memory and less like a passing blur. “I remember him-”

A resounding three knocks on the front door shifts their focus as they all hone in on the disturbance. Alexei and Ekaterina stand, and she smooths her jacket, stepping vigilantly as she all but stalks to the anterior of the house.

“I’ll get it.” She says. “It’s probably Dr. Petrov, or GA. I can’t imagine why any of them would knock, they all have a key and they’ve been practically living here for years.” A lock unlatches and there’s a soft creak of metal and wood. “Yes, come on in, we’re- _what the_ _fuck?!_ ”

“Katenka?! Yuuri, stay here.” Alexei sprints to her. “What’s the matter- oh my...how...who…”

Yuuri knows before he sees, can feel it like a fuse sparking to a stack of dynamite. The detonation is no less astonishing though, and Yuuri paces a few feet backwards as he watches _himself_ walk towards him. This Yuuri is even older than he is, hair short and slicked back, clad in military-grade gear that clings to him like a second skin. There are swords at his back, pistols at his hip, and a long black trench coat in his grip. He is a hardened _warrior,_ shoulders set and mouth in a thin line, eyes roving the room in a manner that unnerves Yuuri.

But Yuuri can see it - the curl of this warrior’s free hand into a fist, a cover so he can thumb at his wedding ring. And his expression, steeled as it is, glosses over briefly with a comforting smile. Yuuri wonders how Victor responded to this the first time; did he advance across the room like Yuuri is doing now, shock and adrenaline and purpose giving him the courage to stand before his other self and tilt his head to the side.

His left ear is gone, and an intricate tattoo of a dragon rises from the scarred and scorched flesh. Yuuri makes an unintelligible noise, fumbling with the edge of his long-sleeved t-shirt, hauling the fabric to his elbow to reveal his own ink, the blue dragon that coils into the words Victor spoke to him all those years ago.

“‘You’re too good for those woods’.” Warrior Yuuri reads, and the ball of his fist tightens. “Uncanny. My Victor has said those words to me more times than I can count.”

“Ditto.” Yuuri whispers.

Warrior Yuuri traces the letters, lingering on the dragon’s tail; he looks up at Yuuri, face somber. “I guess we’re past pleasantries now, Yuuri. Tell me, what do you know about soulmates?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> In case you don't know, I've left both Twitter and Tumblr, so feel free to reach out in the comments <3


End file.
